#le little emperor has arrived

[beardedmrbean]

[josefavomjaaga]

Letter from Josephine to Eugène

Translated from “Les Beauharnais et l’empereur”, edited and published by Jean Hanoteau, containing letters written by Josephine and Hortense to Eugène while the latter was in Italy. This is in fact the very first of those letters.

Plombières, 18 Thermidor [an XIII = August 6, 1805]

No, my dear Eugene, I have not forgotten you [...]

Should be the standard introduction for any of Josephine's letters, considering how long it took her to write.

[...] for I am constantly occupied with you, with what you are doing, with your pleasures, but above all with your sorrows, and I assure you that when I learn that you are suffering some vexation, I am more affected than you are. The Emperor always seemed to me to be pleased with you; he was only a little annoyed that you had sent for a man who had made false statements. He said - and rightly so - that you should have had him reprimanded by the Minister of Police and that it was not in keeping with your dignity to have him come to you. But he said that this was coming from a young man and a young man with honour. It would be curious to know from whom he heard this.

Fortunately, Her Majesty's curiosity can easily be satisfied: The guy chatting so unwisely was a certain Prince Eugène, Viceroy of Italy, who still believed he had to dutifully account to his stepfather for every move he made. But he will soon receive a letter from Duroc with some advice between the lines: Just don't tell him everything, dimwit.

Besides, he knows your devotion to him and your attachment to him and he loves you dearly. The same is not true of his family. They saw with the greatest sorrow your nomination. Murat always plays the courtier. His wife has been ill. It seems so, because she is quite changed. She has retained that air which she calls dignity (which I call composure) which does not suit her at all. It's wrong for all these people not to like us. If they wanted to be good people, they could not have better friends than us.

Sounds like all bridges have already been burned between the Beauharnais and the Murat side of the family. Unfortunately, we do not get to know what "playing the courtier" means and if it is related to the "Duchatel" affair that allegedly caused Eugène some brief disgrace. Josephine does sound somewhat jealous of Murat's influence in these letters.

The Emperor is always very kind to me. I also do whatever it depends on me to do to please him. No more jealousy, my dear Eugene, and what I am saying to you is quite true. This way, he is happier and I am happier. I cannot tell you anything about the political news, it is a mystery which the Emperor never lets you in on. He is at this moment in Boulogne. All I know is that he has been waiting for eight days for a letter which was to decide his departure. You probably know that the Prince of Baden's marriage has fallen through, which gives great hope for the person you know.

Yes, that person would be a certain princesse Auguste. Though, in her opinion (and in that of the whole Bavarian court) the marriage to Karl von Baden was still happening. Of course it would be happening!

I have seen her portrait. She is as beautiful as can be. Your sister is well, as are the children. I had the second child with me at Saint-Cloud, and he is very beautiful. Louis is still in the same state. I am looking forward, my dear Eugène, to midwinter. That is the time when you promised to come and see me. How happy your mother will be! You will know, my dear son, that I grieve every day at being separated from you and that my eyes are always filled with tears whenever I think of you or am spoken to about you. If I have not written to you since my arrival, it is because I have been very tired and tormented by visits. Besides, there was nothing new; I shall write to you every week from now on.

Eugène: Sure, mum... (It took her another month until she sent of her next letter.)

I have agreed with Lavallette to send him my letters. Goodbye, my good Eugene, the most tender of sons. Your mother embraces you with all her heart and loves you madly.

A thousand kind things to Mme Litta and Méjan.

[joachimnapoleon]

A letter from Gourgaud to his mother, written during the Russian campaign and intercepted by the Russians.

[Source: Lettres interceptées par les Russes durant la campagne de 1812, ed. L. Hennet & E. Martin, 1913. Pages 255-6]

***

Baron Gourgaud to his mother Mme Gourgaud

Rue neuve du Luxembourg, n. 8, near the Tuilleries, Paris

Smolensk, 10 November 1812

Do not murmur against me, good mother, if I have gone so long without writing to you, for I really have not had the time since my departure from Moscow. I have had the happiness of being continually employed by our great Emperor; I am also so flattered by the trust he seems to show me that despite the fatigues, the races, the deprivations, I am very content and am very far from complaining.

Before leaving Moscow I received a letter from good Madame Foucher, but since I haven’t had the time to write to my good mother, all the more so was I unable to write to this friend. So I haven’t responded yet. I beg you not to say that you’ve received news from me. I count on replying to her at the first moment of repose.

Tell my good Ninette that she has no need to tell me to try to obtain a receipt for the arrondissement in Paris, tell her that my happiness won’t be complete until I see this tender and beloved sister as happy as I desire her. But one needs patience and sometimes the tortoise arrives before the hare. As for me, I have nothing to desire, since the greatest man in the world has deigned to notice both my zeal and my attachment. So I have much hope; yes, yes we will all be happy.

General Foucher, while crossing over a little bridge, was knocked over by a carriage into the river; he was immediately taken out, but as it was cold, he has had a bit of a fever. I saw him the day before yesterday and he was doing well. I think, good mother, it might be a good idea for you to go and enroll yourself with Madame de Gueheneuc, whose son, my friend, has just had an arm taken off. General Kirgener told me yesterday that this good young man was doing as well as possible. Still, before taking the approach of honesty that I advise, you must consult Ninette and do only what she says.

Farewell, my good mother, rejoice for my happiness, because as long as the Emperor distinguishers me, I will be the happiest of men.

I repeat to you again and I will repeat to you always that you should not worry yourself when I go a long time without writing you, because circumstances often arise where I cannot do so. Always give thanks to God.

I am doing marvelously and am very content. I embrace you from the heart, your good son,

Baron Gourgaud

[P.S.] I don’t need to tell you to embrace my Ninette and her little ones. Tell me if you have bought them the dresses I gave them for my nomination of Baron. Tell Ninette to assure M. de Montalivet that I owe him my happiness.

[queengiuliettafirstlady]

Love getaway

Love getaway  

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Napoleon Bonaparte x OC (Elaine)

Prompt: July 28th A summer getaway sexathon | Cumming on a cross-country trip

Part of  Summer of Smut hosted by  @voltage-vixen and @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

Tag: Insecurity Reassurance Smut Minors DNI!!

Word Count: 2.162

Author’s Note: Elaine belong to my dear friend @kissmetwicekissmedeadly, that is also the one who suggested me this idea I gift you this fic hoping so much it is of your liking but also that I have satisfied your expectations 🥰😉

A well deserved vacation expect the mansion resident thank to le good Comte kind heart, by a chance Napoleon and his lover end up in the same island where their best friend are, things start to became interesting only after le Comte niece and Jean's wife decide to give them a peculair gift to make them enjoy the retreat to the fullest, setting disarray among their plans much to their enjoyment 😏😉

Tag list

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly@lordsisterxotome @aquagirl1978 @violettduchess @atelieredux @klutzyroses @thewitchofbooks @princess-pray-a @itsjudesfault

You can find me on AO3 as QueenJuliet 😊

Thank you for everyone who will like, reblog, or comment please be gentle with me english is not my first language so please do not leave rude comments I apologise for eventual errors I hope you will like it 😊

It was summer hot as Paris has rarely seen, heat and humidity unbearable to anyone pushed le Comte to book a trip for the whole mansion leaving each of the resident free to pick a place they liked, for a pure coincidence the former emperor and his fresh new bride founded themselves stranded on a remote Polinesian island, unknown to the vast majority of tourists, along their best friends being Jean and his wife.

The book guide seemed pretty interesting, promising nature wonders behind imagination, majestic waterfalls, colorful seashells, mountains and rivers that pushed the reckless side in them to go and explore it all like ancient adventurers on a mysterious quest to uncover an historical mystery kept hidden until their arrival.

He really wanted to see the views the Island had to offer, he really did, but once the boat left them off on the shore they were warmly greeted by Jean and Julia, a pleasant surprise it indeed was discovering to have company for their exploration little did they know their plans were about to go upside down, with a charming smile giggling conspiratorially they delivered them a mysterious gift, he knew they were up to something, or better that Julia was up to something his ever loyal husband was dragged into, yet it seems all so innocent they could do nothing but accept and thank them both, and how right he was.

They followed the instructions written by her childlike calligraphy on the letter she gave them, waiting until sunset to open the curiously wrapped gift when they were finally alone in their overwater bungalow stranded on a secluded area of the sea away from the others enough to give each guest enough privacy for their lovers retreat.

Inside there was a book its cover red, color of love and passion enriched by a refined golden embroider, curiosity pushed them to get a better look inside feisting their gaze on the colorful and well drawn illustrations, merely for knowledge purpose they said yet something strange begin to flicker in them as the images became more and more intimate as the pages went on, detailed description correlating the figures they did not fail to read.

The book in question was no less than one of the original copy of the Kamasutra the ancient indian text about love and sex, a kiss lead to another and soon they found themselves entwined in weird position on their bed panting heavily and not for the unebarable warm wheather of the island.

One of them particularly caught their attention, it was called Lotus position and according to the description it enhanced intimacy linking each sense in the body to one another synchronizing them.

The book smirked maliciously from their nightstand satisfied to have fulfilled his mission, carefully she gazed at the picture splayed all over the page trying to memorize it, she was so cute in that moment the tip of her tongue between her lips as a delicate frown crested on her forehead as her eyes were glued to the illustration, so absorbed in printing it on her mind to think about anything else, how strong willed she could be when she wanted to and after all who he was to deny her anything.

"So I should be on top." she said, slowly sliding over his leg spreading hers shooting a last glance to the two lovers in the picture smirking at them melting past and present in the ancient dance of love that make the world spin around from the beginning of the universe onward.

"I love when you take the lead." he murmured huskily nibbling on her earlobe hearing a soft whimper escape her lips as her fingers tighten lightly on his shoulder before diving slowly into his hair

"I can not resist when you do." his hand begin to roam on her body savouring each sweet sound coming from her at his ministration, softly his fingers tighten on her hips as he began peppering kisses all over her shoulder feeling her body unusually tense against his, nuzzling tenderly onto her neck he murmured in her ear

"You are the one and only I have ever loved so much." she frowned slightly placing the book with its cover down on the nightstand, softly he took her face in his hands facing her sad puppy eyes while a frown was painted on her gracious lips

"What is wrong my Queen." gently he brushed his fingers on her cheeks looking into her eyes trying to read if something was bothering her, seeing insecurity and doubts flickering in her lavender eyes, the tenderness in his voice was enough to move her to tears facing the pure love he was conveying in his words holding her close to him as much as possible looking through her with his honest jade eyes that were capable of peering straight into her core making her feel vulnerable but safe in his arms

"You doubt my words." “No.” she pouted trailing off “It is not that.” she protested weakly "Please do not." his voice stern and commanding as he looked straight into her amethyst eyes with his jade ones sparkling with affection                                                                                     "Doubt of everything but never of my love. You are the only one that ever mattered so much to me." she smiled softly as his reassuring words, his love like the sun melted away all her insecurities and doubts, letting the warmth of his love go straight to her heart and spreading in her whole body before she spoke again, a light frown on her lips as she coyly looked at him                                   "It seems hard." "If you give him some hints he can become harder." he smirked maliciously as she blushed softly "You do not want to try it out with me ?" softly he whispered in her ear                                          "I was really looking forward to do it with the only woman that won my heart." he peppered kisses on her skin showering her in his love, murmuring sweet words as he let his feeling soak through into her heart "The love of my life." a soft kiss on her breasts "My one and only queen." a gentle kiss on her neck, soon covering every inch of her skin with gentle wet kisses.

Before they knew she started to whimper making a triumphant smile curl his lips soon melt in blissful content hearing her wail softly as his hands squeezed lightly her tights, spreading them around his legs he pulled her hips toward him tantalizing slowly he slide his cock into her wet folds, hearing her moan as he parted her walls to accommodate himself where he belonged to.

Once he was sheathed to the hilt into her, he attached his lips to her neck, leaving a trail of tiny lovebites on her tender skin before slowly pushing his fangs into her neck, he rolled her sweet blood all over his tongue as her finger dive in his hair keeping her close to his chest, he groaned lightly making her whimper as his low groans sent flood of arouse into her core, gently he pulled away licking the wound before kiss his way down over her breasts carefully sucking her nipple growling as he felt her finger tug his dark locks mewling his name 

"Napo... leone... ahhh."

"You are so good." he hummed in delight "So sweet." a dreamy sigh escaped her lips while she smiled content at his earnest feeling, pulling away he kissed her passionately entwining his tongue with hers, breathlessly she crawled to leave little lovebites all over his neck making him groan produly at her boldness, his hands continued to move her hips, setting a slow sensual pace eliciting wanton moans at each thrust pushed him deeper into her reaching places she was not aware of as he smiled proudly at her, she threw her head back chanting his name making all the oceans creature to know exactly who she belonged to tugging his dark locks into her fingers, lowl growls erupted from his chest as he closed his eyes focusing in his sensations sheer bliss was being one with her addictive was the feeling of their love, so deep and intense nothing he ever experienced could ever be compared to this,pure ecstasy engulfed him at her walls tighten around him engulfing his manhood in her warm soft embrace he desired to never leave.

A needy moan of pleasure resonate in the air, making her sigh contently her doubts long forgotten thanks to the earnest feeling of his lover

“Elaine.” he sighed softly, his eyes closed he lost himself in bliss feeling her hands crawl to caress his chest, teasing his nipple before diving to claw his back, his eyes crinkled with affection as she smiled playfully at him, softly she cradled his face into her hands crashing her lipson his while he let his hands wander down to massage her sensitive bud bathing in her soft moans of pleasure seeing her amethyst eyes misty with lust looking straight into his, his nimble fingers loyal helper as he teased and brushed feather light touches over her clit  before stroking it boldly making her threw her head back while tender mewl of pleasure escaped her lips, her blondish air gleaming like an aureola under the sun rays cascading freely on her back making her white skin gleam under the warm llight peering though the window, making her look like exactly what she was The goddess who effortlessly conquered his heart the one and only he has always loved with such untamable fierce passion, consuming his every senses, making him feel loved as never before, not for his role, not for wealth, but for what he was, for she loved him not as emperor, not as leader, not for what he has but for what he was Napoleone Bonaparte, a naughty and ambitious boy no better than any other child of Corsica his native island, yet she make him feel special, she gave him what he searched in vain all his life love, understanding but mostly a place where he was free to be himslef, where he can truly feel to belong to as he had never before, whre he can come back whenever he felt the need to fee safe and loved, a place he could call home.

He conveyed all his feeling in a revent kiss full of devotion on her heart, feeling her finger tug in his hair before crawling on his back drawing blood but he could not care less as his hand gripped her hips as he pleased setting a fast pace to match the erratic feverish thrust of his hips, feeling her walls tighten around him as he chased after her climax, groaning in delight as her walls clamped down on him milking him for all he was worth making him spill his seed deep into her she whimpered softly at his warmth flooding her core before tiredly slumping on his chest while he hold her close to his chest caressing her hair he murmured tenderly in her ear

"I love you so mon déesse, more than you can imagine."

"I love you too mon guerrier, so very much."

gently he kissed her forehead seeing her smiling content nuzzling into his chest, his voice sultry and husky stirred something inside her as he murmured in her ear "Prepare to not get any sleep I have got plans tonight." her eyes lit up as she beamed at him looking into his lusty eyes 

"I can not wait." a playful smirk adorned his lips as he brushed the back of his fingers on her rosy cheeks seeing her smile shyly at him 

"That is my good girl do not be afraid I will take good care of you my love."

"I never doubted." she whispered softly leaving a tender fleeting kiss on his cheek

Tenderly he kissed her forehead whispering softly, making a soft smile curl on her soft pink lips

"I love you Elaine forever and ever." he held her close to his chest, his heart melting with love as she placed a sweet kiss over his heart murmuring tenderly "I love you too Napoleone so very much."

Softly they drift asleep cuddled in each other arms determined to sleep and recharge their energy only to show off their love to one another all through the next day as their plans took an unexpected but not undesired turn of thanks to that naughty book their dear friends decided to gift them only out of love, such schemy plan all to help them not let the flame of passion get lost in routine giving them a reason more to enjoy a well deserved vacation in that dreamy island only theirs to explore in more than one ways, bringing back at the mansion souvenir of any kind some materialistic and some left as precious memory they could have replayed each night until dawn.

[lesmislettersdaily]

M. Myriel

Volume 1: Fantine; Book 1: A Just Man; Chapter 1: M. Myriel

In 1815, M. Charles-François-Bienvenu Myriel was Bishop of Digne. He was an old man of about seventy-five years of age; he had occupied the see of Digne since 1806.

Although this detail has no connection whatever with the real substance of what we are about to relate, it will not be superfluous, if merely for the sake of exactness in all points, to mention here the various rumors and remarks which had been in circulation about him from the very moment when he arrived in the diocese. True or false, that which is said of men often occupies as important a place in their lives, and above all in their destinies, as that which they do. M. Myriel was the son of a councillor of the Parliament of Aix; hence he belonged to the nobility of the bar. It was said that his father, destining him to be the heir of his own post, had married him at a very early age, eighteen or twenty, in accordance with a custom which is rather widely prevalent in parliamentary families. In spite of this marriage, however, it was said that Charles Myriel created a great deal of talk. He was well formed, though rather short in stature, elegant, graceful, intelligent; the whole of the first portion of his life had been devoted to the world and to gallantry.

The Revolution came; events succeeded each other with precipitation; the parliamentary families, decimated, pursued, hunted down, were dispersed. M. Charles Myriel emigrated to Italy at the very beginning of the Revolution. There his wife died of a malady of the chest, from which she had long suffered. He had no children. What took place next in the fate of M. Myriel? The ruin of the French society of the olden days, the fall of his own family, the tragic spectacles of ’93, which were, perhaps, even more alarming to the emigrants who viewed them from a distance, with the magnifying powers of terror,—did these cause the ideas of renunciation and solitude to germinate in him? Was he, in the midst of these distractions, these affections which absorbed his life, suddenly smitten with one of those mysterious and terrible blows which sometimes overwhelm, by striking to his heart, a man whom public catastrophes would not shake, by striking at his existence and his fortune? No one could have told: all that was known was, that when he returned from Italy he was a priest.

In 1804, M. Myriel was the Curé of Brignolles. He was already advanced in years, and lived in a very retired manner.

About the epoch of the coronation, some petty affair connected with his curacy—just what, is not precisely known—took him to Paris. Among other powerful persons to whom he went to solicit aid for his parishioners was M. le Cardinal Fesch. One day, when the Emperor had come to visit his uncle, the worthy Curé, who was waiting in the anteroom, found himself present when His Majesty passed. Napoleon, on finding himself observed with a certain curiosity by this old man, turned round and said abruptly:—

“Who is this good man who is staring at me?”

“Sire,” said M. Myriel, “you are looking at a good man, and I at a great man. Each of us can profit by it.”

That very evening, the Emperor asked the Cardinal the name of the Curé, and some time afterwards M. Myriel was utterly astonished to learn that he had been appointed Bishop of Digne.

What truth was there, after all, in the stories which were invented as to the early portion of M. Myriel’s life? No one knew. Very few families had been acquainted with the Myriel family before the Revolution.

M. Myriel had to undergo the fate of every newcomer in a little town, where there are many mouths which talk, and very few heads which think. He was obliged to undergo it although he was a bishop, and because he was a bishop. But after all, the rumors with which his name was connected were rumors only,—noise, sayings, words; less than words—palabres, as the energetic language of the South expresses it.

However that may be, after nine years of episcopal power and of residence in Digne, all the stories and subjects of conversation which engross petty towns and petty people at the outset had fallen into profound oblivion. No one would have dared to mention them; no one would have dared to recall them.

M. Myriel had arrived at Digne accompanied by an elderly spinster, Mademoiselle Baptistine, who was his sister, and ten years his junior.

Their only domestic was a female servant of the same age as Mademoiselle Baptistine, and named Madame Magloire, who, after having been the servant of M. le Curé, now assumed the double title of maid to Mademoiselle and housekeeper to Monseigneur.

Mademoiselle Baptistine was a long, pale, thin, gentle creature; she realized the ideal expressed by the word “respectable”; for it seems that a woman must needs be a mother in order to be venerable. She had never been pretty; her whole life, which had been nothing but a succession of holy deeds, had finally conferred upon her a sort of pallor and transparency; and as she advanced in years she had acquired what may be called the beauty of goodness. What had been leanness in her youth had become transparency in her maturity; and this diaphaneity allowed the angel to be seen. She was a soul rather than a virgin. Her person seemed made of a shadow; there was hardly sufficient body to provide for sex; a little matter enclosing a light; large eyes forever drooping;—a mere pretext for a soul’s remaining on the earth.

Madame Magloire was a little, fat, white old woman, corpulent and bustling; always out of breath,—in the first place, because of her activity, and in the next, because of her asthma.

On his arrival, M. Myriel was installed in the episcopal palace with the honors required by the Imperial decrees, which class a bishop immediately after a major-general. The mayor and the president paid the first call on him, and he, in turn, paid the first call on the general and the prefect.

The installation over, the town waited to see its bishop at work.

[sovieshu-simp]

Original Sovieshu meets Multiverse Traveller Sovieshu #1

*In the Le Garden*

Rasta hugging Emperor Sovieshu while crying and he was looking angry at Empress Navier...

Navier was trying to tell the truth until Portal from the air appeared out of nowhere and someone fell and landed on ground like ded.

Everyone was shock and doesn't know who he is. Emperor called one of knight to poke/help him but stranger woke up fast to look around, wondering why the heck everyone so shock looking at him.

[A/n: Keep in the mind about this "Multiverse Traveller" Sovieshu -> (MT) Sovieshu]

Let's start

Stranger look around and saw Emperor Sovieshu, His mistress, few knights, some lady-in-waiting and Lastly is Empress Navier Elle Trovi... His heart stings and felt Heavy guilt he made in his first life...

Stranger: Oh Hello! Nice to meet Ya!

Emperor Sovieshu: WHO ARE YOU AND WHY YOU HAVE SAME APPEARANCE AS ME?!

Stranger: [ Sheesh why can't you calm yourself down? Whatever lemme introduce myself ] I am You but Better, Not like Dumbass move.

Everyone was stunned but more like Little bit disappointed about how Stranger acts. Like no one ever use Vulgar Words in front of Royalty due to it's forbidden. Emperor got little Angry tick mark on his head

Empress too same expression as everyone did but what she did find is little Amused...

Stranger: Anyways, Can you led us to the throne or guest room where we can talk?

Emperor Sovieshu: Alright but you need to keep yourself handcuff

Stranger: [ Aww man, look at him so cautious yet he even let himself scolding to Great Empress Navier over Rashta...I am more disappointed at myself...I MEAN AT YOU....] *sigh* I am Harmless, I don't have any weapons, can't we walk already?

Empress agreed to stranger, Rashta is looking curiosity at him more that makes him more uncomfortable...

Rashta: [ Emperor has another twin Brother? I must make him like me more like everyone does! ] Gasp *she was caught by staring Stranger*

Stranger: [ I can hear your thoughts..... .... She creeps me out ( T-T) ]

Emperor Sovieshu: As a Emperor, you must have handcuff and let's talk about your explanation...

Stranger: [ Stingy... ]

Emperor called dismiss everyone and leaved the garden...Empress went to her own chamber to change her clothes and return to Throne room.

Emperor Sovieshu and His mistress Rashta are in outside of the Rashta Room.

Emperor Sovieshu: Rashta, you must stay at your own room.

Rashta: *uses pout face* B-But I want to know about him!

Emperor Sovieshu: *Sigh* He may dangerous, we don't know anything about him since he arrived.

✨To Be Continued✨

[northernmariette]

Countess Potocka’s portrait of Jérôme Bonaparte

Potocka-rama!. This lady made the acquaintance of a multitude of historically significant people. In 1812, on his way to the Russian front, Jérôme Bonaparte had to stop over in Warsaw. This is what the Countess has to say about him:

On prétendit même depuis que, peu difficile sur les créatures qu'il admettait à son intimité, il se trouva si bien dans un pays où la beauté des femmes n'est ni rare ni exclusive, que l'ambassadeur reçut un jour l'ordre de le faire partir. Toujours est-il qu'en arrivant il fit le roi, annonça qu'il tiendrait cercle et recevrait les dames désireuses de lui être présentées. Cela sembla parfaitement déplacé de la part d'un roi de vingt ans, qui se trouvait là en passant et jouait à la couronne, comme les enfants jouent à la madame. Il y eut donc schisme ; les unes y allèrent, le plus grand nombre se révolta contre les insinuations de l'ambassadeur, lequel prétendait qu'on ne pouvait rien refuser au frère de Napoléon. Le prince s'offensa du peu d;empressement que les dames lui témoignèrent, il voulut essayer de donner un bal, mais les mêmes difficultés qui avaient arrêté M. de Pradt se présentèrent.

[...]

C'est à tort qu'on a accusé Jérôme d'être dépourvu de moyens ; il avait l'esprit prompt et juste. Avec un degré de légitimité de plus et un degré de vanité puérile en moins, il eût passé pour un prince distingué ; mais, enfant gâté de la fortune, il usait et abusait de ses faveurs. Ce fut l'histoire de presque tous les membres de cette famille. Chacun d'eux pris séparément possédait des qualités incontestables, mais la grandeur de Napoléon les écrasait.

[...]

[Jérôme] poussait si loin l'élégance que jamais il ne mettait deux fois certains vêtements, - si bien qu'un bonnetier de Paris auquel il devait une somme considérable lui fit un procès des plus désagréables. L''Empereur ne voulut jamais entendre parler des dettes de son frère, - et un petit roi de Westphalie n'était guère en mesure de faire les choses aussi largement, sans mettre le trouble dans son budget. It was even claimed that, little difficult about the creatures he [Jérôme] admitted into his intimate life, he was so much at his ease in a land where the beauty of women is neither rare nor exclusive [exclusive to what? I'm not sure what the Countess means by that], that one day the [French] ambassador received the order to expedite his his departure. Be it as it may, when he arrived [in Warsaw] he acted as a king, declared that he would hold court and would receive ladies who wished to be introduced to him. All this seemed utterly inappropriate, proposed as it was by a twenty-year-old king [1], who was only passing through and who played at being royal, as children play at being grown-ups. Hence there was a split: some ladies went [to Jérôme's court], the majority rebelled against the ambassador's insinuations,claiming as he did that no one could refuse anything to Napoleon's brother. The Prince took offence at the scant eagerness ladies evidenced for him, he tried to give a ball, but the same difficulties which had hindered Monsieur de Pradt [the ambassador] recurred [2].

[...]

It is quite mistaken to claim Jérôme was devoid of intelligence. His mind was quick and of sound reasoning. If he had had one more degree of legitimacy and one less degree of childish vanity, he would have been seen as a distinguished prince; but, the spoiled child of good fortune, he took too much advantage of his favourable circumstances. It was the same story for almost all members of this family. Each of them taken separately possessed undeniable qualities, but Napoleon's greatness utterly overshadowed them.

[...] [Jérôme] was so particular in matters of elegance that he never wore certain articles of dress twice, - to the extent that a Parisian merchant of hosiery to whom he owed a considerable sum took him to court in a most unpleasant way. The Emperor never wanted to hear about his brother's debts, - and a minor King of Westphalia was hardly in a position to live so lavishly without running into money troubles. [1] Jérôme was actually 28 at the time, as the editor of the Countess's memoirs noted in the original edition. [2] All the men of an age to give the ladies a twirl on the dance floor were at the front. See p. 317 of the Countess's memoirs.

I found translating this passage of the memoirs so difficult that I actually omitted some parts. This is unusual for me, but I have not been able, even in what I did translate, to convey the subtleties of the Countess's obvious scorn at this parvenu tenderfoot who gave himself the airs of a king.

The countess does mention something that I have wondered about myself: namely, the personal merits of Napoleon's siblings, seven individuals who will forever, and unfairly, be compared to the titanesque persona of their brother.

Some of this unfairness is the result of Napoleon's own actions: he put many of them on royal thrones, and tried to make all his brothers (save Lucien? I'm not sure) into military men, which they were not. Joseph, a military man? No. Louis? No. Jérôme? No. Lucien? Didn't make a difference, he was banished. 

As for the sisters, Caroline has had mixed reviews as a queen. Pauline didn't want to be a queen, and wasn't. Of the siblings, only Elisa seems to have been a success as a head of state. A small state, but she did succeed.

But what if Napoleon had never been born, or if he had just been on an equal footing with his siblings? How successful would the Buonaparte siblings have been? I surmise that they would have done rather well. They seemed to have been well-educated, reasonably energetic and ambitious, and charismatic enough to get noticed. For example, Joseph was not a fantastically brilliant prospect when he managed to marry into a wealthy family. Elisa succeeded thanks to the position Napoleon gave her, yes, but this in spite of her dullard of a husband. Caroline managed to interest Murat, very much so (and Lannes too!), at a time when women must have been throwing themselves at him (and at Lannes too!).

So yes, I think the Buonapartes would have made their way into the world, though probably not into the history books.

[your-disobedient-servant]

Never published, likely because it would have been too dangerous, Avis à tous les Orientaux is estimated to have been written in the 1760s and found among Voltaire's papers after his death. I decided to translate because I find it really interesting as an anti-missionary, arguably anti-colonialist (in the religious sense, anyway, but this is Voltaire) tract. Also, because it's surprisingly less bad than the title makes you fear.

Advice to all Orientals by Voltaire

All the nations of Asia and Africa should be warned of the danger that has been threatening them for a long time. There is, in the depths of Europe and especially in the city of Rome, a sect that calls themselves Catholic Christians: this sect sends spies to the whole universe, sometimes by merchant vessels, sometimes by armed vessels in war. It has subjugated a part of the vast American continent, which is the fourth part of the world. Itself confessing to have massacred ten times twelve hundred thousand inhabitants to prevent the revolts against its despotic power and against its religion. About one hundred and thirty revolutions of the sun have passed since this sect, so-called Catholic Christianity, having found the way to establish itself in Japan, or Nipon, wanted to exterminate all the other sects, and caused one of the fiercest civil wars* to have ever laid waste to a kingdom.

The spies called Jesuits, which the priest prince of Rome sent to China, were already starting to cause trouble in that vast empire, when the emperor Yongzheng of happy memory, returned all these dangerous guests to Macao, and preserved, by their banishment, the peace in his empire.°

These same Jesuits subjugated, in America, a country four hundred and sixty miles in circumference; it is said they have civilised the inhabitants: these people, in fact, are civil to the point of being slaves of the catholic bonzes and fakirs known as the Jesuits.

This same catholics made more than one attempt to subjugate the kingdom of Abyssinia.「

The name of catholic signifies universal; this name is enough for them to persuade idiots that the whole universe must believe in their dogmas and submit themselves to their power; these dogmas are the height of madness, and they say that this is precisely what suits mankind. Not only do they herald three gods that only make up one, but they say that one of those three was hanged. They pretend to resurrect him every day with words; they put him in a piece of bread; they eat him, and expel him with other excrement. It is this doctrine that they want all men to submit to; and when they are the strongest, they kill in torments all who dare to oppose their cause for this excess of madness.

These extravagant tyrants boast of being descended from an ancient people called Hebrew, Jew, or Israelite. They ferociously persecute these Jews of which they call themselves their children: they sacrifice them to their three gods, and above all to the one they turn into a piece of bread; and during these sacrifices of human flesh, they chant the hymns composed once by these selfsame Jews that they burn. If they treat all the foreign nations with such barbarity, they mutually exert the same fury against all the little sects their religion is divided into. There is not a single province in Europe that the Christian religion has not filled with carnage. This barbarian slaughters its own children with the same hand that brought desolation to the ends of the world.

It is therefore necessary to pass these excesses to all the languages, and to denounce them to all nations.

Notes:

* Not true, they seem to have arrived during a civil war. They did participate in slave trade, ransacked temples, and tried to convert people by force though. [x]

° The situation with Jesuits in China seems a little more complicated. [x][x]

「 Modern day Ethiopia. The Jesuits did cause chaos and were expelled in 1633. [x]

[cupofkey]

Bit of a random question but do you think there was more than one personification of Vietnam? I think (based on reading a couple wiki pages) that there was a whole thing with north and south kingdoms even before the Vietnam war so idk.. plus a lot of south ocs for the Vietnam war itself..... idk just like to hear your thoughts

ok whoa this is gonna be LONG. I want to fully explain the history so maybe people can get a better understanding of the whole thing, since I feel most people just don’t really know much about our history or believe in misinformation. gonna throw in a fair amount of personal thoughts too. so I’ll do that rather than only stating my hcs and opinions without context... so yeah big long response under the cut.

but thank you for asking! this is like... a very personally relevant topic to me? I myself am not a scholar of Vietnamese history and politics or anything, but I grew up in a family of them, along with generally being a Vietnamese-American person and a child of refugees, and so this stuff has always been really important to me. I’m gonna discuss 3 facets of the questions about who Vietnam is and who she represents:

1. pre-1700s Vietnamese history, stretching back through the times of pre-Chinese domination

2. colonial and 20th century Viet history, including the Vietnam War

3. not directly related to your question, but I think it’s relevant to the central concept of “who is Vietnam”: Vietnamese diaspora and my general thoughts on nationhood/representation

also cw for like. war and colonization and turmoil. anyways here’s the history plus my thoughts, feelings, and opinions.

1. pre-1700s Vietnam

origins of the Vietnamese people

I’ve mentioned this before, but I hc Vietnam (who I’ll just be calling Linh throughout this to refer to the character, for clarity’s sake) as a northerner. this is because the ancient Vietnamese people were a group of tribes (Yue, Nanyue) who lived across southern China and northern Vietnam, specifically around the Red River and its delta, where modern-day Hanoi sits. the modern Vietnamese Kinh ethnic group (~85%) are descended from them.

the Cham people (who are now an ethnic minority) controlled the central to south part of the country for over a thousand years— however, their culture is completely different. they were seafarers arriving from Borneo (Malaysia), and like many other Southeast Asian civilizations, adopted many aspects of Indian culture from language and religion to architecture and law. their kingdom, Champa, was very much ethnically, genetically, and culturally separated from the Vietnamese of the north until the 18th century.

What Actually Happened during this period (~250BCE - ~1650 CE)

several kingdoms and dynasties existed in that area around the Red River delta starting in the 3rd century BCE. however, Han-dynasty China invaded the area known as Nam Việt/Nanyue in 111 BCE and thus began a millennia of Chinese domination. this period was interspersed with various revolts, independent kingdoms, and constant clashes between the Vietnamese and their Chinese conquerors. many of our folk heroes are folk heroes because they said “fuck you” to the Chinese back in these days, including the famous Trung sisters.

Vietnam was very powerful and stable once it gained independence in 939 CE and established its first dynasty. this soon becomes the kingdom of Đại Việt in 968, which lasts until the 1800s. thus, this is the name Linh has been under for the most time across her life. you have to remember, though, that Nam Viet and later Dai Viet still only covered that north/central area of modern-day Vietnam at first!

Champa (green) was founded a few centuries after that pre-China period in the north, in the year 192 CE. it quickly absorbed Indic influences from its neighbors (such as the state of Funan, which was centered even further south on the Mekong Delta. religious influences included Hinduism and Islam.) the kingdom reached its peak through the 7th-10th centuries, although it gradually declined and was eventually completely taken apart by several events. notably: a war with the Vietnamese in the 15th century which they lost very badly, Dai Viet’s gradual southward expansion beginning in the 11th century, and annexations of their remaining principalities ending in the 17th century. thus, the ethnic Vietnamese eventually took over the full area we now know as Vietnam.

ok, so what about hetalia?

to answer your first question: no, I don’t personally hc there being more than one “Vietnamese” personification during this time. The Cham people as previously stated were one of several groups living in what’s now South Vietnam; however, they are very different in many ways, and so I don’t consider the personification of Champa to be Vietnamese. (this is unlike how North and South Korea are both Koreans.)

I do think there was a personification of Champa-- is, really, since the Cham people are one of the most significant ethnic minorities in Vietnam-Laos-Cambodia. whoever they are, they probably live in Cambodia, since their population is largest there (there was a large migration after the dissolving of Champa to neighboring areas).

I’ve mentioned this, but I headcanon that personifications represent their peoples and cultures as a whole rather than specific pieces of political leadership. for example, several power splits occurred during this time (can google Mac/Le dynasties or Trinh/Nguyen lords, where the country was divided by different ruling families) but I would personally consider Linh representing both sides of that.

2. colonial to 20th century Vietnam

French Indochina

I won’t go into too many details here, but basically the French split Vietnam into 3 colonies: Tonkin, the north; Annam, the central region; and Cochinchina, the south; each one had a slightly different status under French governance. Laos and Cambodia were later incorporated. throughout this period, the Vietnamese people were continuously revolting for independence. this nationalism sparked movements moving away from royalism/regressive goals and toward modernization and radicalization, and of course all of it was cracked down on by the French.

after Japan’s ruinous takeover of Indochina at the end of WWII and the abdication of the last Vietnamese emperor (essentially a French puppet), the French tried to reassert themselves, but a new group called the Việt Minh stood in their way. (this group was led by Ho Chi Minh, and had been formed as an anti-Japanese/French group composed of north-central Communists and Viet-nationalists. they had received some support from the US during WWII as well, and are the foundation for the current Vietnamese government today.)

the first and second Indochina Wars

the conflict between the Viet Minh and France/America/a state created by France called the State of Vietnam is referred to as the First Indochina War, and it mostly took place in the north (fka Tonkin). the Viet Minh eventually won the war. an agreement was reached with France to have the Viet Minh take the northern half of the country from the line of the 17th parallel to create North Vietnam, and the State of Vietnam would cover the southern half.

later known as South Vietnam or the Republic (of Vietnam), this state was backed by the US and was led by the infamous Ngô Đình Diệm, and lots of crazy shit happened on both sides. once again won’t go into it bc you can just google, but basically things were not going well and the conflict was not over by a long shot. millions fled the North for the South to escape Communist persecution.

starting in 1956, a group called the Việt Cộng, a group of armed communists, initiated a guerilla war to overthrow South Vietnam and “unite” Vietnam. this, of course, is the Second Indochina War, better known in the US as the Vietnam War, and was fought between North and South Vietnam. as time went by, the Viet Cong were boosted then essentially replaced by North Vietnamese troops (like, from the government, since the guerilla warfare was overlapped by more conventional tactics and they needed help.) the North was backed by the USSR, PRC, and Laotian/Khmer communists; the South was backed by the US, South Korea, and several others. by 1973, the US withdrew completely, and in 1975 Saigon (the capital of South Vietnam) was captured. this marked the end of the war, and the beginning of “reunification.”

personifying South Vietnam?

clearly, there was an incredible amount of turmoil and violence and complexity within these wars. I’ve given the briefest of rundowns, and hopefully it’s even somewhat adequate to express just how bad things were, to show just how serious this all is, and just how little of it I can capture in my own musings about country people.

that being said. do I think there were separate North/South personifications during this time?

my answer is... no. for several reasons: firstly, as previously stated, there has never really been a South Vietnam Personification in my view, and there’s not much of a historical precedent for it. the divide only seriously began when the French split the country, which tbf is a long time, but idk if it would affect Linh herself seeing how old she is. after all, South Vietnam only really existed as an independent state for about 20 years.

secondly, north and south have different cultures for sure, but I don’t believe they’re culturally different enough to warrant separate personifications. government wise is a different story, but culturally Vietnamese people don’t have a large divide, and most of us consider ourselves Vietnamese at the core, not South Vietnamese or North Vietnamese. will discuss exceptions in a second.

thirdly, this war is often seen as a civil war, and I’m of the personal hc (maybe inspired by (un)civil, tbh!) that if nations have different “manifestations” of the belligerents, they don’t have separate bodies. basically what I mean is I think both “North Vietnam” and “South Vietnam” were separate concepts, sure, but they both existed at the same time in Linh’s body. does that make sense? I hope it does.

thus, my opinion is that there wasn’t a South Vietnam personification, but rather as Vietnam began to fragment ideologically in the 1930s (with those revolts against the French), more and more internal conflict built up in Linh’s body. 

(and it’s not like that went away come 1975; no, I’d argue it became even worse. one must understand that there wasn’t just a north-south conflict in the realm of politics. this was a government-people conflict, too. if you look up land reform in North Vietnam, re-education camps, you’ll see what I mean. so I do think there was a lot of internal conflict for Linh throughout this whole period, just for many, many more reasons than is usually portrayed.)

3. who is Vietnam today?

well, it’s time for me to give my completely unsolicited opinions and thoughts even harder!

Vietnamese diaspora

this is a question I’ve been thinking about for a very long time, as a member of this very diaspora. does Linh represent her diaspora, too? do nations claim their diasporas? there are about 4.5 million overseas Vietnamese, with about half in the US, and that’s not a small number. so does Linh represent these people at all? especially if they were born in Vietnam and then moved, does she still represent them, or does someone else like Alfred? what about their children? is it about birth, even? residency, citizenship? self-identification? or just being inside the border?

the Viet diaspora also kind of throws a wrench into things because many of them are ardently nationalist, but specifically South Vietnamese nationalist. in places like France it’s more divided, but Viet-Americans especially are generally very antagonistic toward North Vietnam / the current Vietnamese government, as they literally left the country because of the regime. so do their nationalistic beliefs in the Republic create a personification? is this justification for some kind of cultural basis for a South Vietnam? I don’t think so, because at the end of the day it’s all for the sake of Vietnam period, not north or south. there are some northerners like this too. people aren’t monoliths. but...

really, just lots of questions. I don’t really have answers, honestly. I can throw out my personal feelings and thoughts, but it’s just hard to say, and I don’t think I’ll ever really have The Answers.

(( in my heart of hearts, though, I’d like to think... individuals and groups can be represented by many nations. I want to think they can feel anyone who considers themselves a part of that group, feel their pains and joys just as much as they do for their born-and-bred citizens. I like the idea of Linh deeply understanding her diaspora, because she was there when they were still a part of her, and she knows why they had to leave. and I think Alfred understands all the people living with him, and he ardently wants to make them welcome. I think he knows the dread of being alone, lost, without a home or family, looking to blaze a new trail, make a new home, find new comfort when everything else is lost... ))

a little bit about me

Viet-American. refugee family from both the North and South. literally all of the events I’ve mentioned, my family has been a direct part of somehow. I have direct relatives who were killed by the French, starved during the Japanese occupation, killed by North Vietnamese government efforts like land reform, killed by American bombs and Viet Cong, put into re-education camps, fled Vietnam by boat, plane, foot. I don’t think there’s a single Vietnamese person today who hasn’t been affected somehow. 

I’m not trying to write a sob story, just letting you know. I’m not pity-fishing, because that’s not what this needs, anyway. just showing that things are really complicated, and painfully shitty, and crazy, and just plain weird. Vietnamese nationalism is a really complicated topic in general due to all the conflicting pressures from all levels of society and so I hope you can see that a little better. I hope this was enlightening in some way! 

because I don’t think we see the Vietnamese perspective enough on everything that happened in the 20th century. it’s always the American, or French, or Chinese, but not ours... when it’s our story. so I hope I could tell it, maybe do it a bit of justice, who knows.

final words

writing this has really made me think about this one song. it’s called Gia Tài Của Mẹ, “A Mother’s Legacy”. here’s the lyrics+translation.

it’s very typical patriotic South Vietnamese music, by the poet Trịnh Công Sơn and sung by the singer Khánh Ly. many of Trinh Cong Son’s songs directly address the Vietnamese identity and collective trauma from the events of the 20th century. my dad used to sing them around the house all the time, play CDs, the first songs I learned on the guitar were TCS’s... I think they’re a really key part of thinking about the Southern Vietnamese identity, and this song especially touches on a lot of the history and emotions I addressed.

so go give it a listen, or look at the lyrics. I think it really covers this topic nicely. and let me know if I should talk more about these songs, because I think lots of them are really relevant to my thoughts...

ah, my thoughts, completely unasked for, but thank you for opening the door! please let me know what you think, if you learned anything, if you want to hear more specifically hetalia stuff abt Vietnam, idk, I would really like to hear from anyone reading this period. I also put a lot of time into putting this together dkfjsdkfj so yea any interaction is appreciated. this is something really important to me, I guess is what I’m trying to say. and if you made it this far I’m sending you lots of love, thank you <3

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Sunday 15 December 1839

8 55/..

1 55/..

fine morning F63 ¼° on  my bedroom table at 9 ¾ at which hour sat down to read and wait for Grotza – breakfast at 10 10/.. in about 40 minutes – at church in 5 or 6 minutes at 11 5/.. a few minutes before service begun and before the congregation had arrived – ours the 1st carriage – Mr. C- preached ½ hour from St. John v. 24 on our returning from church found on my table very civil pretty note from Madame [Ocouloff] inviting this for 7 this evening to a little soirée – wrote in answer that we would go count Panin having arrived before I had finished my note to ‘Madame Madame Ocouloff’ – sent by her servant who waited an answer – then off with count P- to the Redacteur de la gazette to see his new invention drawing and engraving on zinc plates, ill today - .:. our going now this 2nd time again in vain – In returning drove to our boulevard – A- took 2 turns in 40 minutes, and I 3 in 57 minutes – then returned about 2 ½ ordered dinner at 5 – were sitting talking when count P- came before 3 and sat till about 3 55/.. will get us a Caucasian letter from General Stal – very agreeable – mentioned several little anecdotes of the Emperor highly illustrative of his straightforward dignity and firmness of character – his memory in presenting a whole host of officers to the empress without muster-roll reminded me of Mithridates – we must not leave Russia without seeing N- the great Baron Rosen now in Moscow – his gendre was A. de C. of the Emperor and commanded a regiment in the Caucasus – treated it as if it had been his [?] – made the men work for him etc. etc. (peculation in fact of their time etc. etc.) for which the emperor dismissed him his service and took young de Rosen in his stead nobly telling to make up for the misconduct of his brother in law and to consoler son père du chagrin that his brother in law had occasioned him – He dismissed General --------- for misconduct – selling [furlows] etc. etc. to his men etc. etc. told the general to be frank and tell how many he had thus sold furlows to – the general prevaricated – the emperor nobly said as he dared not trust clemency, he must try his justice – the emperor had even asked general Orloff who was in the conspiracy of 1814, to avow the thing fairly – the general was silent – would say nothing – the Emperor was as merciful as justice could permit – I note these anecdotes till – but I remember the substance – It is impossible to come to Russia without learning admiration of [his] emperor – he was not known as grand duke – the grand D. and the emperor 2 different men – his extraordinary talents were not elicited before his coming to the throne – if he has enemies said count P- il ne les mérite pas – c’est vrai, said I, mais je m’impatiente quand je pense à la lettre de Pozzo di Borgo – Quelle injure! si l’empereur si le prince héréditaire va [?] en Angleterre toute la nation sera sa garde (P. de B- wrote to count Orloff, he would not ensure the princes’ safety in England so many Poles and Ill-disposed people there – vid. Journal of sometime back) I never can bear to think of this gross injustice to us all – had just written so far when dinner announced now at 4 ¾ in ¾ hour – I had Lame pour le coiffer – had Grotza – I wrote the second bought cap -

SH:7/ML/E/23/0153

Everything cheaper at Odessa than here – many French things cheaper there than in France because must be sold – Jewelry [Jewellery] (pierres précieuse) much cheaper there than here – but cheaper here than in Paris – the setting of diamonds here very good – Ready at 6 35/.. – waited 10 minutes off at 6 50/.. and chez Madame Ocouloff at 7 5/.. – several people arrived gentlemen and ladies and several children – to  une comédie jouée by the children – before this several more ladies and gentlemen arrived among the rest count and countess P- at 8 the play began – 2 Russian pieces – the 1st by grown up young people the governess one of them – the 2nd the 2 principal parts by son and daughter aet. 8 and 6 of the Ocouloffs – pretty little girl – charmante little coquette, and sang her songs à merveille – the boy too played his part very well – Poor children! How young, how clever – How sad to play so well! how melancholy of the applause one gave! the 1st piece about ¾ hour – the 2nd 50 minutes – the little theatre nicely managed – but we were terribly hot – decottée and en nage – lemonade and orgeat between the pieces and afterwards – tea on our arrival – and fruit apples and grapes – the children 1st then the young people danced – I talking of coming away, countess P- pimped up and got off before us – then came the [to] pressing us to stay supper – I excused myself on account of A-‘s having suffered from headache all the day – they offered to bring her home and begged me to stay – I would not leave her – persevered to rudeness in coming away, and home at 10 ½ - I did not much like the company  when countess P- was gone   it is ssaid she do you know a gymnase and he is the directour and I suppose the scholars’ act  somehow I did not much like the style - old countess Panin sent to beg we would go to her church at 11am on Wednesday! countess A.P. to go with us – we to be there at her house at 11 and she will accompany us! I of course much obliged and accepted – on coming home had tea, and wrote the whole of this page till now 11 55/.. – a little small snow flying about the greater part of the day – R -9° at 10 ¾ pm – sat reading till 1 20/.. – vol. 1 Caucasus

[histoireettralala]

Marengo (1/3)

Deprived of their commander-in-chief who, late in the evening, left Marengo for his neighborhood of Torre di Gaffaroli (he did not think there would be a battle!), The French repulsed not without difficulty this murderous assault which surprised them in the morning torpor. When Bonaparte finally arrived, around ten o'clock, the second wave was breaking out, led by Kaïrm. Kellermann and Victor immediately face each other, while the general staff commands the drummers to beat the drums. Then, the whole plain is set ablaze: the couriers gallop from one wing to another, orders are shouted by the battalion leaders, the horses rear up in front of the agitation of their masters who quickly readjust their weapons. The mass of thousands of blue uniforms suddenly rises like an ocean swell while in front, the white uniforms of the Austrian army approach in force.

And it is the immense shock of this human tide which, until noon, presses itself, division against division, battalion against battalion, soldier against soldier, rider against rider, sparing nothing and no one in its path.

Already, thousands of corpses strewn the ground, the odor of blood, suffocating, rises from the earth still wet by the dew, the cries springing, spontaneous, in the two languages, amplified now by the thunder of the artillery, go up as far as Bonaparte on one side, Mélas on the other, the two warlords who, impassive, observe each other from three kilometers away, talking in turn with their ordinances which can be seen moving quickly towards the various concentration points of the troops.

But Ott and Zach's divisions continued to advance to the detriment of those of Lannes and Victor who, from noon onwards, no longer heard their guns covering them at the rear, since, it seems, they lack of ammunition, the whole of the artillery not having been able to cross the Great Saint Bernard in time. It is now evident that the Austrian effectives are much more numerous, even if the French technique is more effective, the veterans fighting with the energy of despair. General Rivaud will testify to this by writing later: "The men were falling like hail." Although the consular guard itself enter the fray, nothing helps.

So the French begin to retreat. Seeing the first lines break, Bonaparte understands that, for the first time in his career, he is losing a pitched battle, the kind in which he has excelled so far. Will Marengo be a defeat? Everything suggests so in the camp opposite where euphoria is now winning over the soldiers of the emperor who, since Valmy - that is to say for eight years! - have been constantly defeated by this French furia, as the Italians say. The hour of revenge has sounded and, to his delight, Mélas relinquishes his command to Kaïrm to go to Alexandria to ask that the victory bulletin be sent to Vienna, which he wishes, as it is natural, to write himself.

A little too early, perhaps.

And Desaix?

Desaix, since dawn, had been walking in the direction of Novi, but very fortunately, the difficulty of maneuvering the couplings on the mountain paths made him lose a lot of time, which explains why, when his scouts announced to him that they did not see any Austrians in the surroundings, he is hardly far from Marengo. It was then that he heard the cannon thunder from the plain, and that, understanding immediately, he ordered a U-turn.

So, around two o'clock in the afternoon, while Bonaparte, perplexed, hesitates on which course to take, he suddenly sees, coming from the south-east, the rapid march of two divisions approaching his lines. Immediately grabbing his telescope, he scans the horizon and cannot contain his joy.

- It's Desaix ... Desaix is ​​coming back!

A thrill runs through the staff and soon spreads through all ranks [..]

Here he appears in his usual grated blue uniform and stripped of all decoration, braid, feather or embroidery, which makes those who do not yet know him believe that he is, that day, dressed in civilian clothes! He rides a horse loaned to him by Bessières, because he doesn't even have one of his own! Barging into the improvised staff meeting in the tent, he explains that it was not Providence that brought him here but his hearing, since he recognized the familiar sound of cannon in the distance, that he smelled the aroma of battle. All joyful at his arrival, Bonaparte informed him of the state of the fight, telling him:

"Well, General, what a scuffle!"

Does Desaix replies, looking at his watch, the famous phrase repeated so often:

"The battle is lost, it is three o'clock; there is still time to win another."

It doesn't matter, basically; it sums up the state of mind of this man of synthesis who, when it comes to fighting, never hesitates.

Gonzague Saint-Bris - Desaix, le sultan de Bonaparte

[josefavomjaaga]

On February 11, 1812, on mardi gras, there was a bal masqué dans les Tuileries. The description is taken from a book by Edouard Gachot entitled »Marie Louise intime« about which I know next to nothing except that it’s quite old (1911), so I guess everything in it needs to be taken with a grain of salt. But some anecdotes are at least amusing and new to me. One has Napoleon being tormented by his own family during this ball:

At nine o'clock, Marie-Louise had dressed in a Cauchoise costume (1,764 francs from Leroi), already worn on 6 February. At midnight she has to change it. As a lady from Corfu (2,800 francs), she will indulge in some rather harmless jokes. Madame de Montebello, dressed as a Campanian peasant, will not leave her. Hortense, "doing the Peruvian", will approach them without recognising them. They go through the galleries, jostling Berthier here, Aldobrandini there, sometimes laughing out loud and looking for the Emperor who, wearing a blue domino and a grey mask, walks with an aide-de-camp through the large room of the Conseil d'Etat, giving himself the air of a stranger, a Prince or an Ambassador who knows no one. Madame de Montebello collides with him and says: "Monsieur, would you be so kind as to not embarrass the walk of a poor Italian woman?" - The duchess has changed the ordinary tone of her voice. The same game is played by Caesar, who replies: "It was you who attacked me, beautiful lady. I must defend myself!" Riposte with a light shoulder blow. - "Defend yourself, sir, as a brave soldier of the Emperor must do. By the way, allow me to be indiscreet." - "I am listening." - "Would you not be looking for a lady from Milan?" - "No, signora, io adorare una dama di Firenze." Marie Louise approaches. "Sir, you have thus travelled through this beautiful land of the sun?” - "Madame, I have spent two years of my beautiful youth there." - "Tell us of your adventures." - "That would really be too long." - "Si, si," the two women insisted, as they pushed Napoleon towards a fireplace... Duroc appeared. "I beg you, ladies, let the Prince continue his walk." - Caroline, in Dalmatian costume, arrived and asked, pointing to her brother: "Monsieur, is he not a subject of King Murat?" - "Well!", resumed the Duchess, "we will put him on notice to dance the tarantella." - "Duchess, I could only dance with my wife; and I know that the Empress prefers to plague people rather than dance. Allow me, with these apologies, to leave you." And, two bows made, the Emperor left to disappear, this time, in the crowd of guests.

(E. Gachot, »Marie Louise Intime«, p.175f)

Duroc! Help! They wanna make me dance! We gotta run! - Poor Napoleon. I hate parties, too.

Was Caroline Murat actually still in Paris at the time? Her question is more than just a little tongue-in-cheek.

(Also, there seems to be a verb missing in the sentence that Napoleon utters in Italian.)

[joachimnapoleon]

“Her own particular handiwork”

Albert Espitalier's book Napoleon and King Murat provides an in-depth, well-researched and documented look at the events between Murat's return to Naples from the Russian campaign, and Murat's final defeat, leaving off right before Napoleon is about to face his own at Waterloo. The bulk of the book is devoted to the negotiations and vacillations of Murat in 1813, prior to his defection from Napoleon. The book is heavily biased against Murat and I don't necessarily agree with all of Espitalier's projections and assumptions. But, his take on Caroline's influence on the negotiations (presented below), is pretty well fleshed out, and even Caroline's own daughter Louise says her mother was more firm in her commitment to this affair than her father was (see here).

The politics of this whole mess are complex, so here's a brief who's-who of some of the names below that aren't as well-known:

Pérignon--Marshal of France Schinina--secretary to Neapolitan embassy in Vienna Mier--Austrian ambassador to Naples Durant--French ambassador to Naples Neipperg--Austrian general & diplomat sent to Naples by Metternich at the end of December 1813 to conclude negotiations... and future lover of Napoleon’s second wife, Marie-Louise Aberdeen--English ambassador to Austria Graham--secretary to Lord William Bentinck, who conducted negotiations with Murat for the English Gallo--Neapolitan foreign minister

It was, as we have seen, the Queen who, led to a sudden change of front by Schinina's report of the disasters that had taken place in the north [my note: this refers to the 1813 campaign], and urged on by Mier to enter into an alliance with Austria, resolved then and there upon a course of action which Leipzig and the Emperor's misfortunes only served to confirm. Anxious at all costs to preserve her husband's crown, Caroline from the very moment of his return urged her husband, whose own ideas made him a ready listener to her counsels, to cast in his lot with Austria. The testimony of Mier and Durant leaves no room for doubt regarding the part played by the Queen. On Neipperg's arrival she toiled and plotted with redoubled vigour. Even at that date we find Lord Aberdeen, who had been informed of the dispatch of an Austrian plenipotentiary to Naples, writing to Castlereagh telling him that Murat would probably put forward some high and mighty claims, but that the Queen, who managed everything, had written to Metternich saying that in the end he would do all that was required of him. During the negotiations that took place between the 1st and the 8th January, Caroline's attitude could not have been more characteristic. While she extended to Neipperg the most gracious of welcomes and did everything in her power to please him, she was present at all her husband's ministerial councils. Informing Durant that the treaty was on the point of being signed, Gallo said: "The King makes no doubt that France will recover herself and that she will always be a power to reckon with, but he feels that before she is able to re-establish her influence over the destinies of Italy and the throne Naples might be lost to him and to his children. The Queen herself is entirely of the same opinion." Her attitude towards Pérignon was no less significant. On the 6th January, when the Marshal was dining at the Palace, the Queen is reported to have said to him somewhat lightly that no doubt he was dining there for the last time. She was also present on the 14th when Pérignon called upon the King to explain his conduct. The Marshal addressed himself in terms of hot reproach to the King, who scarcely replied at all. Then, turning to the Queen, he cried: "And you, Madame, you, the Emperor's sister, if this fatal treaty is to be signed it will doubtless be against your wishes, and you will of course depart with the French army. Surely Napoleon's own sister will not remain here among his enemies. She will protest by her departure against a treaty which she strove to prevent." "Monsier le Maréchal," she replied, with a smile a little curtsy in her husband's direction, "you ought to know that a woman's duty is to obey her lord." And by continuing in this jesting tone she gave him to understand that the conversation had endured long enough. Durant remarks in the most positive fashion on the part played by the Queen in bringing the treaty to pass. "The Queen," he wrote on the 9th January, "is even more decided in the matter of the Austrian alliance than the King himself. She looks on it as her own particular handiwork." Nor is the testimony of the negotiators, who were eye-witnesses of her activities, any less convincing. Graham considered that it was she par excellence who directed the policy of Naples. As for Neipperg, he attached great importance to her intervention. "Her Majesty the Queen, convinced of the justice of our demands, gave them her warm support. The welfare of her kingdom and her subjects was her sole concern." Lastly, Mier himself judged her as follows: "The Queen is perfect. She has manifested on this occasion a greater strength of character than any one deemed she possessed."

Thus all who were witnesses of or actors in the treachery of the Court of Naples were of one unanimous opinion. The Frenchmen, Durant and Pérignon; the Austrians, Metternich, Mier, and Neipperg; the English, Graham and Aberdeen; all point with one accord to Caroline as the originator.

Source: Albert Espitalier, Napoleon and King Murat, 1998 edition, pages 367-369.

[halloweentv]

Celebrate Halloween time on Disney Plus. You can think of it as your own DIY “Disney’s Halloween Treat”

Halloweentown movie seties

Marnie discovers she is a witch and visits Halloween town while learning more about her powers

Hocus Pocus

The Sanderson sisters come back on Halloween night for revenge.

Mom’s got a date with a Vampire

Adam and his sister set up their mom on a date so they can sneak out. But they didn’t expect her date to be a vampire.

The Nightmare Before Christmas

Jack akellington daocovers Christmas and tries to take over.

Frankenweenie (movie & Short)

Victor loses his dog Sparky but brings him back to life with some

Girl Vs. Monster

The daughter of two monster hunters must take on a monster of her own.

The Simpsons

Treehouse of Horror episodes. Every season has an episode early in the season that parodies horror and other pop culture. Classic Halloween specials...at least the first few seasons for sure.

Big Hero 6

s1e22 Obaki Yashiki

Hiro visits a haunted house and keeps seeing Tacashi around the city.

So Weird

S2e07 Boo

On Halloween Fi finds the town they’re in filled with strange trick or treaters.

Suite Life of Zack and Cody

S1e19 Ghost of 613

Zack and Cody find out there is a legendary haunted room in the hotel.

Gravity Falls

S1e7 Summerween

Gravity Falls loves Halloween so much they celebrate it in summer as well.

Phil of the Future

S1e15 Halloween

Debbie is revealed to be an evil cyborg

Even Stevens

S2e11 A very scary story

Louis realizes the kids at school are turning into zombies without eyes.

Lizzie Maguire

S1e24 Night of the Day of the Dead

Kate disrespects Miranda’s artifacts from the Day of the Dead.

Boy Meets World

S2e6 Who’s Afraid of Cory Wolf

Cory goes through some changes and he thinks he may be becoming a werewolf.

Lilo & Stitch

S1e5 Spooky

It’s Halloween and an experiment turns people’s worst fears into a reality.

————————————————-

A list of 6(7) episodes that all connect at the same Halloween event it was marketed as “Monstober Spooktacular Weekend”

Jessie

*S4e18 The Ghostest with the Mostest

Stuart warns the kids about a ghost named Abigail.

Girl meets World

S2e18 Girl meets world of terror 2

Riley and Maya meet a ghost!

I Didn't Do It

S2e18 The Bite Club

A fortune teller predicts bad luck for Logan.

K.C. Undercover

S1e24 All Howls Eve

KC dresses as a spy for Halloween to impress a new boy.

Best Friends Whenever

S1e9 Cyd and Shelby's Haunted Escape

Cyd and Shelby teleport to New York and get stuck in an escape room with Riley and Lucas.

Austin & Ally

S4e15 Scary Spirits & Spooky Stories

A trip to New York inspires three spooky stories

-Also part of the crossover event but on Netflix as of Sept. 2020

Liv and Maddie

S3e5 Haunt-A-Rooney

Liv and Joey travel to New York for Halloween

————————————

I didn’t do it

S1e18 Next of Pumpkin

At the Holla!-ween fest, Garrett is stuck in a corn maze

Jessie

S2e1 The Whining

The kids go trick or treating while Jessie fights exhaustion

S3e1 Ghost Bummers

Jessie and the kids throw a Halloween party.

S323 The Runaway bride of Frankenstein

Jessie doesn’t know how to respond to Brooks’ proposal.

Best friends whenever

S2e6 Night of the were-diesel

Austin & Ally

S2e1 Costumes & courage

Jimmy Star asks Austin to perform at his annual Halloween costume party

S3e20 Horror stories and Halloween scares

Power outage leaves the friends locked in Sonic Boom over night.

Ultimate Spider-Man

S2e21 Blade

Spider-man fights alongside vampire hunter Blade to stop Dracula

S2e22 The Howling Commandos

Spider-man teams up with the howling commandoes to save his friends.

S3e10 Halloween night at the museum

Jessie and Spider-man team up to save Halloween.

S4e20 Strange Little Halloween

Trick-or-treaters begin turning into real monsters.

Phineas and Ferb

S1e9 One good scare ought to do it!

Isabella is inflicted with an extreme case of hiccups.

S1e 22 The Monster of Phineas- -Ferbstein!

The grandparents tell the boys about Ferb’s ancestor.

S3e14 That’s the spirit! /The curse of Candace

The kids encounter a strange boy who is convinced his house is haunted.

S4e18 Terrifying Tri-State Trilogy of Terror

In this Halloween episode, our characters, star in three terrifying tales.

S4e19 Drusselsteinoween/Face your Fear

When Doof inherits a castle, Vanessa moves her Halloween party.

S4e30 Night of the living pharmacists

Dr. Doof turns people of Danville into Doof-zombies

Wizards of Waverly Place

S3e2 Halloween

The wizards hire real ghost to keep the sub station the best haunted house.

Hannah Montana

S1e17 Torn between two Hannahs

Miley’s look alike cousin goes to the Hollywood Halloween party and tries to expose Hannah’s identity.

Kim Possible

S1e14 October 31st

When Kim lies about not wanting to go trick or treating with Ron there are some unexpected consequences.

That’s so Raven

S2e2 Don’t have a cow

Raven uses a spell book it make her costume better b it she ends up turning into a cow.

Proud Family

S2e2 A hero for Halloween

Penny eats some scary snax and gets super powers.

A.N.T. Farm

S1e14 Mutant Farm

S2e13 Mutant Farm 2

S3e12 Mutant Farm 3.0

Halloween themed episodes based on each seasons premiere.

Shake it Up

S2e5 Beam it up

Flynn thinks his neighbor is an alien

S3e25 Haunt it up

Flynn challenges Deuce and Ty to stay the night in a haunted house.

Kickin it

S1e12 Boo Gi Nights

On Halloween the Black Dragons are expected to wreak havoc.

S3e15 Temple of Doom

The gang host a Halloween party at the temple

Milo Murphy’s Law

S1e20 Milo Murphy's Halloween Scream-A-Torium!

Zack doesn’t think anything about Halloween can scare him anymore.

Star vs. the forces of Evil

S2e11 Hungry Larry

Star and Marco help Mr. Diaz create the scariest Haunted House on the block

The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad

The classic tale of Ichabod Crane and the headless horseman

Donald Duck

Trick or Treat

Donald plays a trick on his nephews but a witch helps them out.

Mickey Mouse

Lonesome Ghosts

Mickey, Donald, and Goofy run a ghost exterminating agency.

Goof Troop

S1e29 Hallow-Weenies

Pete and Goofy get captured by ghost so Max and PJ need to rescue them.

Duck Tales

S1e65 Ducky Horror Picture Show

A group of monsters rent Scrooge’s convention center for their meeting.

Mickey Mouse

S1e10 Ghoul Friend (2013)

S2e8 The Boiler Room (2014)

S2e19 Black or White (2015)

*The Scariest Story Ever: A Mickey Mouse Halloween Spooktacular (2017) (hopefully this will be added to Disney Plus soon)

Recess

S3e34 Terrifying tales of recess

Bitch tells the kids three scary Halloween stories

Recess: Taking the 5th grade

Spinelli believes she is too old for Halloween

Ravens Home

S1e11 The Baxtercism of Levi Grayson

Booker and Levi try to fool a ghost-hunting classmate.

S2e16 Switch-or-treat

Raven and Booker switch bodies on Halloween.

S3e10 Creepin’ it real

On Halloween, a spooky new neighbor moves in.

Sonny with a Chance

S2e18 A So Random Halloween special

Shaquille O’Neal hosts a Halloween special.

Good Luck Charlie

S2e12 Scary had a little lamb

Teddy and Ivy take Charlie trick or treating but an annoying kid ruins their night.

S3e16 Le Halloween

Teddy and Spencer celebrate their anniversary and Amy dresses as a kangaroo

S4e14 Fright Knight

Teddy and her friends decide to go Halloween caroling.

Stuck in the middle

S2e18 Stuck in a merry scary

Harley hopes to prank Rachel

Fish Hooks

S2e5 Halloween Haul

The gang go trick or treating outside the tanks.

Gargoyles

S2e7 Eye of the Beholder

The Gargoyles are able to go out on Halloween night. Meanwhile Fox becomes more of a wolf.

Twitches

Reunited twin girls discover they have powers.

Twitches too

When a new evil threat arrives, it’s up to the twitches to save Coventry.

Doug

S1e8 Doug’s Bloody buddy

On Halloween night rumors circulate that Skeeter is a vampire.

S3e6 Night of the living Dougs

Doug’s friends and family are too busy to help him make a Halloween costume

The Emperor’s New School

S1e20 The Yzma that stole Kuzcoween.

Yzma sets out to destroy the annual Kuzcoween holiday.

Honorable Mentions

Bizardvark

S1e12 Halloweenvark

S2e12 Halloweenvark: Part Boo

S3e7 Halloweenvark part 3: Mali-boo

Crash and Bernstein

S1e2 Scaredy Crash

S2e2 Health-o-ween

Mighty Med

S1e3 Frighty Med

S2e3 Liar, Liar

.

[queerchoicesblog]

An Unexpected Turn of Events

Hiya, folks! So, as previously announced, the wlw writing project continues after a break with a miniseries set back in Vienna, one of the iconic capitals of opera at the time of Mozart. An emerging singer gets the chance to be an understudy in the latest Mozart’s discussed opera Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro), that  premiered at the Burgtheater in Vienna on 1 May 1786, w and play the pants role of the page Cherubino. Preparing for the role doesn’t quite go as planned… .

Tagging: @scottishqueer​

Previous chapter: The Understudy

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

____________________

A couple of days later I go back to Melchiorri for another session as planned. He is inflexible that I allow my voice to rest at least one day before practising again not to damage it. As I observe the streets of Vienna passing by from my carriage, I wonder if the little fugitive will visit us today too and a tiny smile crosses my lips. I should be bothered by such unprofessionalism but surprisingly I enjoyed the interruption. A private comedic enteract. It also reminded me the maestro is human: I stole a glance of the domestic, family life people like me is generally unfamiliar with. I don't plan to marry anytime soon honestly if I can avoid it, despite what my Aunt claims. I owe her and my uncle, the wealthy side of my family, everything. She brought me away from the small town by the Alps I lived with Mom, Dad and Hans, my little brother in a wooden cottage by a stream. We weren't indigents, we owned a small typography in town that mainly served the local journal of the valley and well, the church crafting the prayer books you would find on the bench every day at mass. We weren't rich with either: you don't exactly became high socialite with so little. Hans is now running the typography as my father's eyes are not the ones he used to have since he got sick. I don't envy my poor brother; I am glad I got my way out of that life. I am eternally grateful to Auntie Helga for insisting to drag me to Graz and deciding to turn me into a star of the opera after hearing me perform a solo in the church choir during one of her - not so frequent, actually - visits.

Auntie built her fortune over a good marriage with a promising young lawyer who couldn't resist her charm and eventually allowed her to live in sober luxury and even be invited to court. But that seemed to be her sole aspiration in life: she left the small town and never looked back. I am an opera singer, I want more. My career comes first and I have yet to meet a worthy match honestly. And no, I don't want to be a puppet, a doll to a man who will eventually ask me to leave the stage and my beloved arias to look after a child or be a proper wife, whatever it means. So, no, thanks, I chuckle in my head while taking the hand the driver offer me to get off the carriage. When I knock at the door, I am considering that maybe Herr Giorgio is not that bad, even if I didn't like the way he addressed the maid and the poor naughty boy. Nor the lusty looks he throws me. The maid welcomes me with a smile and a little reverence. Good girl, probably she expects me to chastise her too. As if I had any intention to do so! She takes my fur and quickly disappear into the wardrobe room before walking back towardsme. I thank her for her zeal but I know the way to the music room, the maestro is surely waiting for me, I say. I start walking but what she says next makes me freeze, confused. "Actually, Miss...the master is not here today. I'm very sorry. His wife is waiting for you in the tea room". What? That...that must be a joke. The maestro hired to prepare me last minute disappears before the official rehearsals. I turn and throw a bad look at the poor maid, who doesn't deserve it in the least. She's just a messenger, her eyes beg before lowering them to her feet. She's right, my anger is all for Mister Melchiorri. What do I do now? "Whatever, lead the way then" I exclaim, following her. "I can't wait to hear what the fair lady has to say about this". My voice is cold, sardonic; the girl doesn't say a single word while we walk in the opposite direction than my usual route in the house. She's certainly too afraid to dare say a thing. When we finally arrive to the right room, she knocks politely at the door and steps in when a female voice comes from the inside. She bows her head and announces my presence before disappearing back down the corridor. She stops only to let the door open for me. I let out an annoyed sigh and enter. The room is significantly different from the maestro's studio. No instruments, only paintings at the walls and fresh flowers on the little tables around the room. The perfume is delicate and inebriating: are they orchids, I wonder? A neat wooden library holds the place of honour on the main wall, opposite the fireplace and framed by windows that fills the whole room by natural light, even if the sun doesn't shine today: it will probably rain soon. Letting my eyes wonder outside I spot green and a carousel: I didn't realise we were so close to a park! Unlike the music room, here even if the furniture, the velvet armchairs, the Persian rugs, every decor are certainly expensive, the atmosphere is surprisingly...cozy, an adjective I would have never thought of associated with Melchiorri's place. It's almost inviting, calming? "Miss Bauer, I am so incredibly sorry for the the latest developments and all the trouble they must bring on you...but please, take a seat! Franziska will be back soon with fresh tea". I turn to see a woman gesturing me to join her by the fireplace. Her German has a thick Italian accent which gives her "a bit of exotic" as they say at court. She doesn't wear a wig, her long raven hair are done up in an elaborate grateful chignon and two curly strands frame her visage. She reminds me one of those shepherdesses portrayed in bucolic frescos at the Emperor's Palace. Her dress is not in character though: a plain, cerulean dress which is not necessarily cheap but does nothing to enhance her figure. Poor taste probably: even money can do little about it sometimes. She must be in her early thirties or so I wager and thinner than most ladies I know in her standing...I wonder why Melchiorri chose her if he's so clearly fond of female curves. Maybe it's another arranged loveless marriage. I wouldn't be surprised. I oblige and thank her politely, forgetting my anger for a moment. It surprises me, it must be a reflex, a natural response the soothing silky voice of the lady. Like the feral beasts tamed by the gentle melody of Orpheus' song, I think trying to shake away such thought. I suddenly realise that I don't know her name. Melchiorri never talked about her. But I don't want to tell her: it's not a nice thing to say to a wife, right? As if reading my thoughts, she shakes her head slightly embarassed. "I forgot my manners, didn't I?" she sighs. "You must forgive me, Miss, I do not receive many visitors lately and I've never been introduced to famous opera singers...nor any of my husband's pupils. My name is Cecilia, Cecilia Melchiorri". I feel a pang of sadness for this lady excluded from the theatre world his husband works in. I don't get why she has to be cast out like that. I've met other illustrious wives at social gatherings around Vienna or at court. I offer her my hand, gesturing no apologies are needed, and repeat her name. "Cecilia...". Sadly, I completely butcher it: I studied Italian for the opera but my Austrian tongue is still incapable to recreate the sweet sounds that comes so natural to her. It must not be the first time because her lips curl in a quick understanding smile. "You can call me Lia, if it's easier for you. My family used to call me so". Lia...what a pretty little name. I smile, grateful. "I will then, if you don't mind...Lia. You can call me Constanze: it seems only fair". "As you wish, Miss Bauer!" she says before realising her mistake. We share an amused look, even if hers is a bit more bashful. In that moment, after another polite knock, Franziska returns with the tea and some butter biscuits. They're different from the ones Mister Melchiorri usually offers me in his studio. She's serving the tea when a familiar figure materialises on the threshold of the room at my peripheral. Lia is giving him the shoulders so she can't see him. I turn in his direction with a smirk. "I believe we've already met, right, Sir?" The two women turn at unison too and the kid childishly hides his face but doesn't move. After a moment he spies us through his fingers and retrieves his hands, smiling. Franziska puts the tray underneath her arm and tells Lia that she will bring him to his room, making the boy pout. He's quite the character. "Maybe he followed you because he just wants a biscuit" I say, my eyes wandering between them to check if I'm overstepping. "Maybe you're right...but only if he doesn't bother you" Melchiorri's wife concedes with a tired smile. I shake my head and take the decorated plate in my hands. "Would you like one?" I ask in Italian to her son, not sure if he speaks proper German. His face brightens up and he nods enthusiastically. We share a soft laugh, even the maid joins. He gets ready to speed across the room when he stops, considering. He searches his mother for approval. Lia nods, asking to behave like a good boy though. So he approaches slower than he wanted, with great effort to refrain himself, and grabs a biscuit from the plate. Before taking a generous bite, he mutters a quick thank you. "Mystery solved" I comment, placing the plate back on the table. "You must excuse him, Miss Ba- Constanze" Lia say, gently pulling him closer. "Nino is not a bad kid, just a bit of a rascal at times". "A rascal with a sweet tooth" Franziska adds and we share another laughter. "I'm so sorry he interrupted your private session the other day. Franziska had quite a fair share of work to do and I was indisposed in my room, I couldn't look after him as I usually do". I dismiss her apologies, taking a sip of tea. "But it was fun, wasn't it?" I wink at Nino who chuckles. "Yes and she sings very well, Ma" he says, turning to his mother. "Of course, I heard her too from my room" she smiles. "She's a promise of the opera, it's written on the newspapers". "Sing again?" the little boy begs, expectantly. His childish enthusiasm amuses me. "I cannot do those trills now, I need to warm up my voice first" I apologise, before winking. "Another time, I promise". Lia whispers something into his ear and he thanks me, concealing his disappointment. Crumbs are stuck on his lips and make the smile that follows a bit funnier than it was supposed to be. "Now, sweetheart, why don't you follow Franziska back to the kitchen?" She says, stroking his curls. "Take another biscuit and she will give you a glass of milk, just as you like it, huh?". She doesn't have to say it twice: while the maid gently places and arm around his shoulders, guiding him away, he takes not one but two biscuits in his hands. He throws me a conspiratorial look before chuckling. Then he turns towards Lia and stretches his neck to kiss her cheek. She caresses his face and tells him to be good with Franziska. When the two of them are out of the room, she meets my gaze again, shaking hear head. "Apologies, Miss...I sent Franziska to buy these for you this morning and he managed to put his eyes on them. He became obsessed". "Kids" I shrug, unbothered. I am pleasantly impressed that she had such a kind gesture towards me. I mean it could be a way to get on my good side because of the news she has to give me...but after all, this situation is not her fault. Her husband left her to deal with this and me all alone. She turns serious and sighs. "Anyway, have you heard of the flooding near Salzburg?". "What?". "Torrential rain lead to conspicuous floodings in the area surrounding Salzburg. I don't know if Giorgio mentioned it to you but he head there after your session for a family emergency....his brother lives there". "I'm afraid he didn't say a thing about his little journey" I say, trying my hardest not to look angered, even if I am: I would have rather be informed sooner of such details. By the look on her face I can tell she expected such an answer. "He surely thought he would be back in time today, he didn't mention staying for long. But during the night the weather deteriorated and the roads are pretty much impracticable, so to speak. We've just received a note saying he will be back as soon as travelling conditions are restored and the emergency solved. Probably a couple of days...maybe more? He must have sent you a similar one, you just missed it because you were on your way here already". "A couple of days? Maybe more?" I exclaim. That's not promising... "The rehearsals start in a week" I frown. "I still need to practise...". "You are free to do it here if you wish, Miss" she suggests, apologetic yet encouraging. "I am perfectly aware this is a hideous setback for you with such a tight schedule. You must believe me when I say I wish we never put you in this situation...if there's anything I can do, Miss, ask away. I'm not my husband but...". I consider her words for a moment. My mind runs wild to find a solution for this unexpected unfavourable circumstance. I could find another maestro maybe but how, within such a short notice and little time before official rehearsals begin? I could do it on my own but another sudden foolish idea crosses my mind. "Do you play the cello, Mrs. Lia?" I must have taken her by surprise by the look on her face. She tries to conceal it, refilling her cup. "Why, yes. My father was a musician, I took cello classes in my youth but I don't see how this-". "Excellent! Then you can take your husband's place until the he’s back" I exclaim, cutting her short. My words must come as a shock: she almost spits her tea. "Beg pardon, Miss?". "You will be my maestro, well understudy maestro for the time being" I smile, explaining. "You said yourself that you can play the cello, you can assist me as I practice". "But...but I don't have my husband expertise" she objects, at loss of words. "You heard me practicing with your husband, right? So you must know how it should sound. And that aside, you can even tell yourself if my performance is good or not: you have ears too, if I am not mistaken". She opens her mouth to say something, anything to make me change my mind and spare her such thing...but nothing comes. Her lips presses together for a moment before she places her cup back on the table. "Very well, then...if you think it would work" she smiles weakly. "Just be patient with me: I do not usually play opera arias".

[drunkdaisychains]

Aera the Fair

full story updated regularly  @

https://www.wattpad.com/story/258839356-aera-the-fair

Pairings: OCF/OCM, OC/Brynjolf

Warnings: Smut, killing, theft, fluff

Summery:Between the Butcher murders, lovers spats, and the war going one, it’s a wonder that there is any peace in Windhelm. Valun Stormcloak, son of  Ulfric, has taken an interest in a fair maiden adopted into clan Shattersheild. But she has an incriminating secret. Can she keep her man, avenge her family, and keep her secret or will she be cast out of the city, never able to see her family again.

An excerpt from Chapter 4

"Stop! Assassin!" The Markarth guards chased her towards the city gates. She had successfully planted the incriminating letter on her target but was caught sneaking out of his room in the keep. She dodged and swerved people as she sprinted from the scene. She just needed the shadows of the night to conceal her. As she stepped briskly down the steps and away from the city she tried not to concentrate on the burning building in her legs. Farther and farther they carried her as she dipped and dodged arrows flying from the guards bows. She finally saw it, the shadows along the side of the road that she'd slip into. As quick as she appeared she vanished, not even an invisibility spell needed tho she did have that power. As she controlled her breathing she heard the crunching of dirt as guards flew past her. 

"Damn. We lost her," one said after a moment of looking around. After another bit of sniffing the air they turned to return to their posts. She waited with a hand over her mouth until she couldn't hear them and her shoulders relaxed. She decided it was best to stick to the shadows the rest of her way back to the sanctuary. Forsworn had been attacking travellers for months and she knew they attacked in numbers. She was skilled but not against an army. Her journey was uneventful aside from the occasional wildlife, she made record time back to the sanctuary. Little did she know as she passed through the door, she would be met with aftermath. She was able to piece together the scene in moments and listened anxiously as the family discussed the moments that had just transpired. 

Oh Cicero. You should have waited until I got back. Thought to herself as Astrid had furiously turned to her. Her objective was simple, she wanted her husband home and alive… and avenged. 

"Take Shadowmere. You'll notice he's one of us," she suggested and Aera turned on her heel. She needed to get to her friend before that werewolf did and she needed to fix this. As she approached the black pond outside the sanctuary doors it began to boil. The sounds of galloping could be heard mixed with the bubbling and finally with a grand rear, Shadowmere appeared. 

"That's showy, even for you," she giggled at the horse. Shadowmere was more apart of the brotherhood than Astrid but Aera was not about to let on that she knew it. The Dark steed had been fabled in the Brotherhood as he was Lucien Lachance's ride. Shadowmere was family quite literally and had always wondered why she was not the one to inherit him. For her surname was LaChance, she was always destined to be an assassin like her ancestor. She dropped the last name,in favour of her nickname given to her in Bruma, when she crossed over the border. She didn't know that it was the same as the Jarl in Solitude but to change it after would have been suspicious.

She mounted Shadowmere and kicked him in the direction of Dawnstar. 

Upon arriving she was met with the scene of blood and a clearly injured Arnbjorn. She gave him a healing potion from her satchel and offered him Shadowmere. 

"Oh don't worry about me. I'll make it back, just make sure that bastard regrets it." He muttered before stalking off. 

"What is life's greatest illusion?" The ghostly voice belonging to the door asked. 

"Innocence, my brother," she answered. 

"Welcome home," as it opened toward her. The sanctuary was in rather nice shape for being abandoned. Desolate and home to only spiders but she could find comfort here if she had to. She summoned her ancestor to fight alongside her, greeting him as an old friend. 

"Ah Listener, the Night Mother has told me of your devotion," he growled. She was in awe but had no time to be struck as a spectral assassin materialized from the wall. Cicero's voice could be heard taunting her. She hoped he hadn't turned on her as well. She sliced through spectral assassin after spectral assassin, nearly being run through by traps set or set on fire. The cold ruins of whatever tunneled into the sanctuary made her breathe freeze. She could hear a weird growl before Lucien jumped past her and began fending off the troll. Once she shook off her shock she too joined in the quarrel. Finally after a gruelling tour through the snow and cobwebs, she burst into the door where Cicero's voice was clearest she had heard since she stepped through the door. She sheathed her swords and rushed to his side. Her friend was in a bad way and could use a potion. She dug through her satchel and uncorked the small red vial handing it to him to drink. 

"I won't kill you," she confirmed. Cicero had warned her that Astrid was a traitor and she had more reason to trust him than her. Lucien mumbled about a purification, much like the Cheydinhal she had begun at despite it being considered the Bravil chapter. 

"You must leave Cicero here so Astrid believes I am dead!" He exclaimed. 

"She'll have no choice but to believe me. I just hope she doesn't come check for herself," she said out loud. 

"Go now! Go tell the traitor you killed Cicero," he said scooting closer to the fire. She nodded and turned on her heel to make the journey back. 

While the journey back wasn't as bad now that she was on the best steed for an assassin to be paired with, she was worried about Cicero. When she wasn't worrying about his well being her mind wandered over to Valun. She would reminisce their tumble together and how he gave her what she couldn't find in Brynjolf or the sailors who would always propose to her. She had even considered Thrynn before he showed how belligerent he was on mead. They all had excitement and mystery. They would all be able to give her a fair life, but whether they wanted to or she wanted them to was up for debate. But with Valun she also received a comfort she had never had. It was easy to be with him and forget about her secrets with him. It was just when she would think of them again they would hit her like a ton of bricks and he would be right there kissing away her worries, trying to convince her to be his bride. 

Thankfully Astrid not only believed her, but sent her on the next step for the grand scheme they had planned. She had to find the author of the popular cookbook "uncommon taste" and steal his identity. First she needed to go to Markarth to locate him. She used her travel time on Shadowmere to prepare her alibi and to make her travel decisions. She would prepare for the possibility of an extended time away while they dealt with the final mark. Killing the emperor was no small task and she wanted to ensure there was no way she would be compromised if she had to stay away longer. The chef in Markarth was easy to get the information from, and simply having the kitchens closed off already while he slept made it perfect to stuff a cloth in his mouth when she took his life. This job was far too easy, the cook, innkeeper, and even the bard at the inn almost jumped at the opportunity to tell someone the orc was in their basement room. Foolish of them to not be more discrete. Lugging the large Orsimer into the hiding place was the hardest part. It made her arms burn to pull herself up the ladder after. It was finally time to make history. She rode up to the Solitude gates, Jarrin root in her pocket. She had changed into fine clothes and a chef's hat so to look the part she was playing. 

The writ worked to allow her access and soon she was in the kitchen with the regular castle dour cook stirring away at the base of a potage le magnifique. She took some creative liberties while cooking before placing the Jarrin root into the stew and watching it dissolve quickly. The cook picked up the pot and carried it painstakingly slowly into the dining room where the Emperor sat with nobles from all over Skyrim. She placed herself on the side of the table closest to the door for a quick escape. When his face landed in his bowl she was already turned around and sprinting to the door. Unfortunately that's where she would be stopped by Commander Maro, angry and vengeful. 

"As of right now your sanctuary is being put to the sword," he growled, the words were like fire in her ears. Her last home, destroyed by the Empire. She must have looked as crazy mad as Cicero did because there was an unsure look in Maro's eyes as she ran up to him with her swords drawn. Immediately she used both blades to slice his head off, as if he were softened butter. It rolled down off his neck and to his guards feet as she sheathed the bloody blades and sprinted down the tower steps. She dodged soldiers left and right knowing she had to get to the sanctuary as fast as she could. She used the city walls the same way she had when she killed the Vicci girl at her own wedding. The walls were able to limit her exposure to flying arrows and pursuing guards, her lungs burned as she pushed to keep going as fast as she could. 

She burst through the gate doors before they could lock them and took a running start at Shadowmere, who seemed to know exactly what to do as he began trotting in the other direction before launching into a sprint before she was properly seated. 

"We have to go home Shadowmere, they need us," she said to the steed as she fumbled with a stirrup to give relief from the bouncing. Her eyes watered both from the worry and from the wind. When she made it up to the sanctuary she could see the horses and soldiers waiting. Shadowmere charged them, rearing and attacking them as Aera hopped off. She spun with her blades out, cutting through the skin exposed from where the armour couldn't protect. She whirled around ensuring no one but her and Shadowmere would survive this fight. Finally as the soldiers lay in pools of their own blood she turned to the door and rushed in. 

Fire, oil that was used to cause the fire, and bodies were everywhere. She stabbed the two soldiers who advanced on her almost as if they were an afterthought and rushed deeper into the burning hall to find survivors. Veezara and Festus' bodies were burned and almost unrecognizable. Gabriella and her spider were nowhere to be found and Arnbjorn was a werewolf, attacking a group of soldiers at once before succumbing to his injuries too. She rushed to the dining hall to find Nazir fighting more of the assailants and she immediately joined in. 

"You're alive!" Nazir yelled over slashing and clashing. 

"Can't say the same for everyone else," she yelled back clearly distraught. The last soldier was run through with a final slash of her sword and she was able to turn to the blood splattered Alik'r. They both launched into a search for survivors until she heard the ghostly voice calling to her. She was in the night mother's room and she was requesting her to step into the coffin. Aera was hesitant but obliged as she is the chosen listener.  She closed her eyes trying to block out the heinous trauma that had just occurred. 

  "Sleep…" the voice soothed.